


We Are Not Two, We Are One

by fictionallemons



Series: I hate earl grey [1]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Smut, Explicit Consent, Facials, First Kiss, First Time, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mission Impossible: Fallout - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15766713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: Ethan and Benji are at a safe house and there's only one bed. What are two agents who are secretly pining for each other to do?





	1. Just a little crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic started out as an excuse to write Ethan in black boxer briefs and Benji's reaction to that and it's getting out of hand. Happy ending guaranteed!

Three months after Kashmir things had returned to relative normal. Hunley had been mourned and another suit had taken his place. Ilsa was off the grid for a while, but Benji knew she’d pop up again sooner or later. Luther had taken an extended vacation and was now on assignment in Singapore. Benji had healed, physically, anyway, from his encounter with Lane. And Ethan was still Ethan, brash, fearless, and a genius at both getting into trouble and getting out of it.

Benji probably wouldn’t have noticed that anything had changed with Ethan until the night in Prague. They’d been up for 36 hours staking out the love nest of a government official and an international arms dealer, and, having finally acquired the piece of intelligence they needed and sent it off to Brandt at headquarters, had made their way to the nearest safe house.

“Is this it?” Benji asked, eyeing the one room dubiously. There was a hot pot, a tiny bathroom containing the smallest shower Benji had ever seen, and a bed. One double bed. There wasn’t even room for anyone to sleep on the floor.

“At least there are pillows,” Ethan grunted. “And hopefully no cockroaches.”

“Ah the life of a spy. So glamorous.” Benji sighed and flopped down on the bed. He didn’t really care about the arrangements; he was dead on his feet and needed sleep.

“I’ll use the bathroom and then—“ Ethan glanced at the bed. Benji had a feeling his friend was about to do something stupidly chivalrous, like offering to sleep sitting up in the shower.

“Just—we’ll share, all right? I’m about to pass out, so see you in the morning,” Benji said, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his jacket.

“Okay.” Ethan agreed readily enough. He must have been as tired as Benji.

Benji waited for the thin wall to separate them and to hear the water running on the other side before wriggling out of his trousers and unbuttoning his shirt. He settled underneath the covers in his undershirt and boxers, willing sleep to come quickly before he had time to contemplate the close proximity. The bed was actually pretty comfortable, and it had been so long since his eyes had been able to close for more than a few seconds. So it wouldn’t matter that he’d be a few inches away from Ethan. His friend. His coworker. His unrequited crush. It would be fine. 100% fine.

Even so, he scooted as close to the edge of the bed as he could, to make sure there was enough room for Ethan and his six pack and his stupidly gorgeous hair. He lay there, evening out his breaths, and half-asleep before he heard the bathroom door open and felt the dip of the bed as Ethan joined him. Not joined him, joined him, just came to bed. But not like that. Shared the bed. Occupational hazard of a spy, really. And Benji was a trained field agent. He could sleep anywhere. Even next to Ethan Hunt.

He barely heard the whisper before sleep claimed him entirely.

“G’night, Benji.”

*

Something woke him about four hours later. His watch told him it was well after midnight. He turned over, forgetting where he was for a moment. He stilled when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Of course, Ethan was there. Ethan was always there when it counted. Even when he was asleep. 

Benji settled on his side, taking in Ethan’s sleeping form. He was on his back, his unforgettable profile accentuated by the one shaft of streetlamp light entering through the tiny window on the other side of the room. He was wearing a t-shirt, black, and it hugged every muscle in his upper body like a second skin. The sheets were pushed down around his waist, and Benji could just make out the band of black boxer briefs and an exposed stretch of abdomen. He swallowed heavily. See, this was why field agents shouldn’t get crushes on their coworkers. 

But it wasn’t really fair. No one who came into contact with Ethan could help being mesmerized by his forcefulness and charisma. And though Benji could admit to himself that he’d had a little bit of a thing for Agent Hunt since first meeting him all those years ago, he’d done a very thorough job of keeping his crush on the back burner. Working with Ethan, being in his closest circle, was more amazing than anything Benji could have imagined in his drab life before joining the IMF. He wouldn’t jeopardize his relationship with Ethan over anything—especially not some stupid, destined-to-go-nowhere attraction. It wasn’t his fault that Ethan was so, so, perfect, from his blinding smile to his crinkly eyes to his aforementioned hair. 

He sighed and closed his eyes. None of that mattered. What mattered was Ethan needed him in the field to do his best work, and Benji was always going to be there for him.

His eyes snapped open a second later. There it was again. The sound that had woken him up. It was Ethan, moaning in his sleep. He must have been dreaming. Benji trained his eyes on Ethan again. Now he saw grooves between Ethan’s eyes, as if he was in pain.

Benji hesitated. He knew that waking up a person in deep REM sleep could have unintended consequences.

Ethan moaned again. He twitched, rolled onto his side, facing Benji. “No!” The word startled Benji, but Ethan was still asleep. “No, Lane. Don’t touch him. I’ll—“ the moan again, almost a whimper. The sound frightened Benji. Ethan never sounded that desperate, even when things were dire. “Benji, I’m sorry.” This last utterance had Benji scooting closer, ready to break through and stop Ethan from whatever his subconscious was torturing him about. He placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, tried shaking him awake.

“Ethan.” He kept his voice low. “Ethan.”

Ethan’s eyes snapped open, three inches from Benji’s. Benji kept his hand on Ethan’s shoulder, grounding him, willing him to fully wake up. 

“Benji?” Ethan’s voice was rough with sleep and some emotion Benji couldn’t name.

Benji smiled a little, was about to tell him he’d been having a dream, when Ethan suddenly darted forward, and pressed his lips to Benji’s. They were slightly parted and Benji was frozen in shock as he felt Ethan’s tongue sweep gently at the seam of Benji’s lips, his warm breath coaxing Benji’s mouth open, his body responding before his brain could catch up, deepening the kiss, until their tongues touched and the electric shock of it zapped Benji’s brain back online and he pulled back hastily.

“Benji?” Ethan’s voice was puzzled, his gaze on Benji’s face. Benji could see his eyes had sharpened, had lost their dreamy quality. Ethan was awake. And he’d just kissed Benji. What was happening right now?


	2. Feel it?

“Jesus, Benji, I’m sorry.” Ethan’s voice had lost its sleep roughness and now he sounded almost too alert, too focused. Benji didn’t know exactly what was going on, but his instinct was always to soothe, to make things better for Ethan, it make it easier for him to bear the weight of the world.

“Hey, it’s okay. You were dreaming. Do you remember what about?”

Ethan rolled onto his back, avoiding Benji’s eyes. For a minute, Benji didn’t think he was going to answer. But he finally said, “Yeah, I remember.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I was dreaming about Lane.”

Benji wasn’t surprised that Ethan was haunted by one of his most fearsome adversaries. Benji had nightmares from time to time, too. Lane’s snake-like countenance and scaly voice still had the power to terrify, even if he was safely under lock and key once more.

“You said my name, too.” Benji didn’t know if it would help for Ethan to talk about it, but if he was in any way responsible for Ethan’s pain he needed to know, needed to fix it.

“I dreamed he was hurting you. I couldn’t stop it.” Ethan’s voice was tinged with something else—was it tears? Benji examined his friend. Ethan was the strongest person he knew, but he wasn’t made of stone. His enormous heart was the thing that Benji loved best about him. And right now that heart was hurting.

“Hey, it’s all right. I’m all right,” Benji said He wanted to reach out and touch Ethan, to reassure him, but he felt awkward. They had just kissed, and Benji still didn’t know what it meant.

“I couldn’t stop it,” Ethan repeated. “I couldn’t stop it, Benji. I couldn’t stop him from hurting you. Not in London. Not in Kashmir. I’m so sorry, Benji.” Ethan wasn’t looking at him, and Benji felt his tension, his sorrow, radiating out of him.

“That wasn’t your fault, Ethan,” Benji said, his voice low and insistent. “None of that was your fault. You saved me in London. You saved the world in Kashmir.”

“You almost died!” Ethan’s voice rose in pitch, but he still wouldn’t look at Benji. “You almost died and I wasn’t there—I couldn’t stop him.”

“I didn’t die, Ethan, and I’m not your responsibility,” Benji tried, even though he knew the place Ethan was coming from couldn’t be touched by logic.

“Of course you are.” Ethan finally rolled back on his side, facing Benji, his face a mask of held back emotion. “Protecting you—that’s the only thing that matters to me.”

Benji was stunned by the simple conviction in Ethan’s voice. “I—what—I’m a field agent, Ethan. I know the risks. I don’t relish being in the position I was in with Lane…” he reached up to rub his neck, before realizing what he was doing and pulling his hand away quickly. “But it’s not your fault. I never thought that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ethan said, his voice tired. “Let’s just go back to sleep.” He shut his eyes, closing himself off from Benji.

Benji couldn’t sleep, not knowing that Ethan was in such turmoil, that he was beating himself up over his inability to save Benji from the likes of Lane. And tiptoeing around the truth wasn’t helping.

“You’re letting him win,” he said, more calmly than he felt.

“What?” Ethan’s voice was harsh. He sat up, giving up the pretense of sleep.

“Lane. You’re letting him win. He’s locked up, but he’s still in your head. He hurt me, but he didn’t break me, Ethan. See?” Benji picked up Ethan’s hand, placed in on his chest. “I’m here. I’m breathing. My heart is beating. Feel it?”

Benji felt the heat from Ethan’s hand bleed through his thin cotton shirt. He imagined the pulse of Ethan’s blood pounding in time to Benji’s heartbeat. They were rarely this close, and Benji drank up the sensation of Ethan’s hand on his body, just to know that they were both alive, both still fighting. “Feel it?” he said again. If a thread of desire laced his voice, he couldn’t help it.

“Benji—“ Benji watched as Ethan struggled for words. His face was carved out of granite, hard but infinitely beautiful. “Maybe you already know this, but there’s a reason I need to protect you.”

“I know why,” Benji said quickly. It was pretty obvious.

“Why, then?”

“Because I’m part of your team. You never leave one of us behind.”

Ethan nodded. “That’s part of it.” He was still touching Benji, his warm palm against Benji’s chest. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he moved it down Benji’s torso, against his waist, and held it there. They were facing each other in the bed, Ethan’s hand on Benji’s waist and Benji distantly thought they must resemble two lovers caught in a midnight embrace. He reminded himself to breathe. This wasn’t a drill. This was happening. He had to make sure it was happening for the right reasons.

“What’s the other part?” Benji asked carefully.

“If you don’t want me, I completely understand and I will never, ever utter another word about it, I promise. It won’t change anything. And I know you’d do almost anything for me, so don’t think you have to do anything you don’t want to out of some idiotic extreme loyalty—“

“Are you calling me idiotic?” Benji asked, his reflexive position to cut the tension with humor.

Ethan quirked a smile. “Sort of.” But then he sobered. “I need to protect you because I need you. In every way you can think of. And it doesn’t matter if don’t reciprocate. It’s enough for me to know you’re safe. That you’re happy.”

Benji’s head was a jumble of thoughts and emotions. He was at a loss for words—a rare occurrence, to be sure.

Ethan must have sensed his confusion, taken it as rejection. He moved his hand away. The inches between them suddenly felt like miles. “It’s okay. It doesn’t change anything. We make a good team—I’ll, I’ll start going to see the therapist Brandt is always making me appointments for. I’ll get over this.” He sighed, laid back down, stared at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking saying you’re sorry,” Benji bit out, suddenly furious with Ethan, with himself, with all the shit they had gone through together that had brought them so close, and kept them so far apart. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Ethan. You are the best man I know. I don’t understand how someone like you could—I mean, you’re amazing. Brilliant and brave and kind. Leaving aside your movie-star looks, even. What could you want with me?”

Ethan sat up, crossed his arms over his knees, gave a sad little smile. “I want you because you make me feel—normal. Or as close to normal as I can get. When I’m with you, it doesn’t matter if we’re trying to beat a clock or just hanging out, I want to stay there. It’s been building for a while.” He shrugged, as if his confession wasn’t imploding Benji’s known universe. “At first I just thought—Benji and me, we work really well together. Then I’d think, gee, Benji’s awfully cute in glasses. And out of glasses. And suddenly it was: Benji’s more important than almost any other objective. I don’t know, maybe in Vienna, that was when I looked at you and I realized why you’re so important to me. Because I fell in love with you somewhere between headquarters and Moscow and Vienna and I didn’t even know it.”

Benji was stunned. Vienna was two years ago. He had no idea Ethan had all of that simmering underneath his calm façade.

Ethan ran a hand roughly through his hair, making it even more adorably mussed than before. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. I wasn’t planning on telling you. I didn’t think it would be fair. But these dreams—what if they come true? What if one day it’s too late to tell you how I feel, to show you how I feel?”

He fell silent, and Benji tentatively met his gaze. His friend, his mentor, his crush, to be honest, his everything was looking at him with a sort of resigned ruefulness. As if he didn’t expect Benji to return any of his feelings.

“How would you show me?” Benji asked.

Ethan’s eyes widened a little. “What?”

“How would you show me how you feel? Show me now. Please.” Benji was dying to touch Ethan, to be touched by him. But Ethan was so vulnerable right now, Benji wanted him to be able to make the first move.

Ethan hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure this was what Benji wanted.

“Please, Ethan.” Benji lowered his voice to a whisper. “Please.”


	3. Start here

The third “please” seemed to break through to Ethan. He started by cupping Benji’s bristle-covered chin, running his hand up the side of his face, touching Benji gently, reverently. If Benji hadn’t been so high on emotional adrenaline, he might have cried at the softness of Ethan’s touch. It had been a long time for him. A long time since anyone had touched him like that, had looked at him the way Ethan was looking at him now. With care. With love. With something like disbelief that Benji would allow this.

As if he could ever refuse Ethan anything.

Ethan stroked his thumb over Benji’s cheekbone and Benji closed his eyes and hummed, pressing his face into Ethan’s palm, trying to get closer.

“Benji?” Ethan’s voice was uncertain. “Is this really happening?”

Benji opened his eyes and met Ethan’s worried gaze. “You’re not dreaming, if that’s what you mean.”

“You want—this? With me?” The furrow was back between Ethan’s eyes. Benji wanted to kiss it away.

“I want—listen, I’ve spent years burying what I want, telling myself that what I want doesn’t matter. You’re going to have to give me some time to get used to the idea that what I want might be what you want, too.”

Ethan looked surprised. “Like what? Give me an example.”

Benji huffed out a laugh. “There are so many things, I don’t know where to start.”

Ethan traced Benji’s lips with his fingers. “Start here.”

“I want to kiss you,” Benji said.

“Okay.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then, somehow their lips met. On some level, Benji couldn’t believe this was happening. That he was kissing Ethan and Ethan wanted him to. This was _Ethan_. He was so warm, so alive, so vital. Benji’s blood sang with being able to do this, being able to touch him. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, and Ethan allowed it, opening his mouth to Benji’s tongue, the kiss both sweet and promising of future, filthy things. Benji groaned, and suddenly all his emotional upheaval, his physical fatigue, it all melted away and he was hard, wanting.

He drew away. “Fuck.” Ethan’s eyes were dark, his lips gorgeously red. The things Benji wanted to do to those lips made him dizzy with desire. He kissed him again, with purpose, his hands roaming over Ethan’s body, Ethan pulling him close, so they were suddenly tangled in each other.

He kissed across Ethan’s jaw, down the side of his neck. Ethan’s head lolled back, exposing his neck to Benji. Benji could feel his pulse, wild and fast, and Ethan groaned, “This is—this is what you want?”

“Fuck, Ethan, I want to kiss every inch of you.” His lips moved across Ethan’s collarbone, down his sternum over his shirt. “Can I?” He waited for Ethan’s nod before peeling his shirt over his head. His torso, chiseled, scarred, was like a feast laid out before Benji. 

He pushed Ethan gently back on the bed, started to take his fill, sweeping his tongue over Ethan’s diamond-hard nipples, laving his ribs, sensitive to the fact that they’d healed from breaks not long before. He kissed and sucked and suddenly he’d moved down Ethan’s flat stomach and into the sprinkling of hair above the waistband of his boxer briefs. There was a bulge there, sizable. Benji swallowed hard. 

He rocked back on his heels. Ethan was laid on the bed, eyes nearly shut, mouth open like a wanton, breathing heavily, his hands forming into fists as if to hold himself back from something. He was hard. For Benji. Benji thought he was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Every inch,” Benji repeated. “May I?” He fingered the edge of Ethan’s boxer briefs and Ethan lifted his hips, bringing his erection closer to Benji and allowing him to slide the fabric over his hips, down his legs. 

Ethan was big, but not scary big. Benji’s own cock pulsed in eagerness at the sight of Ethan naked and needy. But he ignored himself, bent his head, kissing at the crease of Ethan’s thighs, nosing his balls, and finally, finally kissing up the length of Ethan’s rock hard shaft. Ethan hissed and swore when Benji took the tip of him in his mouth. Benji glanced up. Ethan looked positively wrecked, trembling, panting. He pulled off for a moment. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Ethan replied. “But—uh.” Benji waited. “It’s been a while for me, so I’m probably not going to last very long. Just warning you.”

Benji cocked his head to the side. “How long?”

“Uh, is that relevant?”

“Ethan, when it comes to you, everything is relevant.” Benji knew this probably wasn’t the best time to have this conversation, but who knew when he’d get another chance? “So, you have done this before? With a bloke?”

Ethan’s eyes softened. “I have. A long time ago.”

“How long?”

“Benji! You’re killing me.” Ethan laughed impatiently.

“I’m going to make it better,” Benji promised. “In a minute.”

“You sadist,” Ethan said lightly. “Years. Before Julia. And I can guess your next question, and no, there hasn’t been anyone since her.”

Benji felt his mouth drop open. That would mean it had been years since Ethan had been with anyone. “You and Ilsa never…?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Then I wasn’t imagining you were jealous in Casablanca. I thought maybe you were just being overprotective.”

Benji blushed.

“And no. I met Ilsa after I realized how I felt about you.”

Benji stared at Ethan. He couldn’t quite believe this was happening. He leaned down, kissed him hard on the mouth, pulled back and whispered, “You realize you’re going to be stuck with me now?”

“God, I hope so,” Ethan said, emotion filling his voice. “But if you don’t suck my cock right now I might go a little crazy.”

“On it,” Benji whispered, and he scooted down the bed.


	4. All the time in the world

It didn’t matter what had gone before, what that had been holding them back, what had hurt them. All that mattered was that in this moment they were together, no longer running on parallel tracks only sometimes coming within arm’s reach of each other. Now they were on the same track, hurtling towards each other, about to meld, to become part of each other, for a little while at least.

Benji’s mouth filled with saliva and he took Ethan’s cock in one long, fluid motion. Ethan’s hips bucked up and he groaned. Benji wanted to make this good, wanted to make Ethan happy about choosing a funny little computer geek-turned-semi-skilled field agent to fall in love with. 

The sensation of having Ethan’s cock filling his mouth was unbelievable. He licked, he sucked, he used his fingers and hands to fondle and caress, to bring Ethan off as best as he knew how. Ethan was into it, that seemed clear, from the way he was gasping and panting, as if he’d been chasing a target across a mile of rooftops. But it wasn’t until Benji moved two fingers lower, across Ethan’s perineum, and pressed, that Ethan bucked wildly, pushing himself further into Benji’s throat.

He yelled, “Benji!” and Benji stayed put, expecting and yet somehow unprepared for the jets of come Ethan started pumping into his mouth. He swallowed as well as he could, holding Ethan until his cries ceased, until his breathing starting to slow. He pulled off tenderly, sliding back up Ethan’s body, heedless of his own persistent erection. Ethan needed a cuddle, whether or not he realized it.

He tucked the top of his head under Ethan’s chin, wrapped his arms gently around his chest. Ethan’s arms came around Benji, and there they lay for a long moment. Benji hoped Ethan felt half as good as he did lying there, feeling Ethan’s warmth and vitality sink through his skin, into his bones.

“That was…incredible,” Ethan said. “I’d imagined it so many times.”

“You did?” Benji turned and watched Ethan in profile. He was sweaty and beautiful and Benji knew that he’d never feel this way about anyone ever again.

“But that was better.”

Benji felt like he’d just saved the world singlehandedly. “I’m glad.”

“And I can’t believe how patient you’re being,” Ethan added.

Benji’s cock twitched. “Well, I’m not in a rush,” he said modestly, though he was dying for Ethan to touch him.

“Oh, you aren’t? Then, I guess I can take my time,” Ethan said in a deceptively casual voice. His hands started exploring Benji’s body and Benji gasped at the sensation when Ethan palmed his aching cock through his boxers. Suddenly, their positions from before were reversed. Benji lay on his back while Ethan kneeled over him and expertly removed his t-shirt and boxers almost before Benji knew what was happening. He was breathless, realizing that before Ethan had been holding back, had let him take the lead, had let Benji take care of him. Now Ethan was in charge, and Benji couldn’t decide which he liked more.

“T-t-take your time,” Benji stuttered. Since when did he stutter during sex? Since Ethan-bloody-Hunt was in his bed, that’s when.

“Oh, I will,” Ethan promised. “We have all the time in the world.” They both wanted him to mean it, and they both knew that was one thing they’d never have. But they had tonight. They had this crappy safe house bed and this chance to make good on a few dreams they never thought would come true.

True to his word, Ethan started slow, kissing Benji’s lips, his eyelids, sucking on the lobe of his ear. Benji was set to explode by the time Ethan’s lips closed over a nipple, and he almost came when Ethan softly bit each one in turn.

“Holy fuck, Ethan,” Benji was nearly sobbing by the time Ethan’s mouth hovered over his cock. Ethan just stared at it, as if memorizing every detail, every ridge and curve and vein. He licked his lips and Benji shuddered. Then he lowered his head, kissed the tip. And then suddenly, Benji’s cock was in Ethan’s mouth, and it was best thing he’d ever felt. Ever. Before long he was clawing at the bed sheets trying not to come.

“Ethan, stop!” he cried, desperate.

Ethan pulled off and glanced at Benji. “Was I doing it wrong?” he asked cheekily.

“No, you tosser,” Benji panted, “You’re giving me the best head of my life. But I don’t want to come this way.”

“How do you want to come?” Ethan asked, sending more blood down to Benji’s cock with his sinful voice.

“Uh, if it’s okay with you, could I get on top of you, and uh, come on your face?” Benji wouldn’t have asked, but carpe diem, right?

Ethan’s jaw tightened and for a second Benji thought he’d crossed a line. But then Ethan gritted out, “Fuck, Benji,” and his voice was full of need. “Yeah. Okay. Please.”

Lightening fast they switched positions again. Benji couldn’t help noticing Ethan’s cock was hard again, bobbing suggestively toward his navel. Of course Ethan would have a super-human refractory period.

“Like this?” Ethan asked, as Benji straddled him, started stroking his spit-wet cock.

“Yes,” Benji groaned. “Fuck, Ethan, your face. Your mouth.” He knew it was only going to take a few more strokes. The orgasm was building, his balls drawn up, pre-come leaking steadily out the tip as his hand flew over his cock.

“Come, Benji,” Ethan whispered. “Come on my face. Do it.” And then he licked his gorgeous lips and a wave of pleasure hit Benji so intensely he could barely process the orgasm tearing through him, the come pumping out of him, painting Ethan’s face with it. Ethan closed his eyes, letting him do it, even catching some with his tongue and sucking it down. Benji collapsed to Ethan’s side, vaguely aware that Ethan was stroking his own cock and moaning through his second orgasm.

When he came to his senses, Ethan was stroking Benji’s back, and there was come all over him, from his stomach to his forehead. Benji wanted to lick it off and start all over again. Instead, he found Ethan’s lips with his, tasting himself there, too.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, dirty and sticky and naked in the safe house bed, until sleep overtook them and stole the night.


	5. Possible

Benji woke slowly, morning light glaring against his eyelids. His mouth felt dry, as if he were dehydrated. His body was sore in unexpected places, as if he’d been in a fight. He hadn’t been, though. They’d been on a stakeout and then—Benji jolted upright in bed, eyes flying open. He and Ethan—they’d—

“Morning,” Ethan said. He was showered and dressed and leaning against the narrow counter that held a hot pot and two mugs. “There’s no coffee. Tea okay?”

Benji nodded, feeling at a spectacular disadvantage. He was naked, and he smelled—like sex, mostly. Ethan was looking at him with one of his enigmatic Ethan expressions—a mix of eyebrows and cheekbones and faint half-smiles. He handed Benji a mug of steaming tea.

“Are we—“ Benji cleared his throat noisily “—on a schedule?”

“Brandt hasn’t gotten back to us with the files we need to set up the next drop. So we’ve got a few hours. I thought maybe we’d get some brunch.”

“Brunch?” Benji knew he was being thick, but Ethan was being so…nonchalant. He hadn’t imagined the… _incredible, dirty, mind blowing_ …ways their friendship had changed the night before, had he?

“Yeah, I know a good place a few Metro stops from here.” Ethan paused, took a sip from his mug. “If you’re hungry.”

And suddenly, Benji realized that Ethan was nervous. He was being cool and collected but he had a tell. It was the way his gaze didn’t quite meet Benji’s head on.

“I’m hungry,” Benji confirmed. “Give me five minutes.”

Closer to ten minutes later, after contorting himself to shower and change in the tiny bathroom, Benji was reasonably clean, dressed, and finally took a sip of his tea. He then promptly spit it out. “Ugh. I hate Earl Grey.”

Ethan had been scrolling through something on his phone, but he looked up and frowned. “It was the only thing on hand. I didn’t know—“

“It’s not a problem. Just deep-seated tea trauma from being forced to drink it at my Gran’s every Sunday growing up.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ethan didn’t even crack a smile. “Let’s just go.” He was being very careful not to touch Benji, to not look him directly in the eyes. As if he were ashamed of something. Or afraid of something.

“Wait. Ethan—what’s wrong? Did I fuck this up already?” Benji wasn’t a relationship expert, but he couldn’t quite see where he’d gone wrong between having Ethan’s tongue down his throat the previous night and now.

“Uh. Is there something to fuck up?” Ethan asked quietly.

“What are you talking about? Of course—wait, are you…are you having second thoughts? I mean, of course it’s going to be difficult. We’re going to have to figure out how to tell people, if we tell people, and figure out how work is going to be and I’m going to worry about you every time you go off into the field without me, which I sort of do already, so that’s not really going to change, and I’m still probably going to be jealous of Ilsa and every other lady or lad who can’t help falling for the great Ethan Hunt, but I can handle it, especially if we talk about it, and yeah, I’m not a world authority on relationships, but I think we can make this work. Don’t you?”

Benji suddenly realized he’d been talking a very long time and Ethan’s expression was getting blanker and blanker. Jesus. He swallowed. “Don’t you?” he said again, his voice sounding small to his ears.

And then all of a sudden Ethan had him pinned up against the door, chest to chest, Ethan’s hands on Benji’s hips. “Thank god. I was sure you’d just been trying to make me feel better.”

Benji looked into Ethan’s warm green eyes. “What—you thought that was a pity fuck?”

“I don’t know—I haven’t told someone I was in love with them in long time. I’m a little rusty at all this. And when that person doesn’t exactly say it back…” Ethan swallowed, a hint of a blush making him look younger, more vulnerable.

“Oh, holy hell, I did fuck this up!” Benji had been an idiot. Ethan had bared his feelings for Benji last night and he’d blown him in return, but hadn’t exactly told him how he felt, in so many words. “I’m bollocks at relationships, I’m sad to tell you. But I’m going to try and fix this, right now.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Ethan Hunt. I didn’t let myself examine the extent to which I am bloody head over heels for you until right this very moment because I thought it was the last thing that could possibly happen. I thought it was impossible.” He crooked a smile. “But you make the impossible…possible. I love you, too. I’ve loved you for a long time. I’m fairly certain I’m going to love you forever, if that’s not going too far before coffee.”

Ethan smiled wide, making his eyes squinty and adorable. “Thank you. I guess I needed to hear that. And you’re right. This isn’t going to be easy, but we’ll make it work.”

“Absolutely,” Benji said, and then he claimed Ethan’s lips in their first kiss of the day. Ethan tasted like mint from his toothpaste and bergamot from the Earl Grey. “There you go, doing the impossible again.”

“What do you mean?” Ethan’s mouth was red from kissing and curved into another devastating smile. Benji wondered if they could sneak in a quickie before their hunger made them weak.

“You made the taste of bergamot sexy, you gorgeous thing.” And Benji lowered his head for another taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work's title comes from the song Strangers by The Kinks.
> 
> I'm kind of in love with writing for this pairing, and I think this little story could spawn some sexy additional scenes, so you might see those down the road.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


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